It Feels Good to be Crazy

It feels good to be crazy.
When you're diagnosed with it, no one really looks at you funny anymore
'cuz it's impolite to stare. If you really got it, then they can't tell
you that you're nutty 'cuz that's impolite too.
It used to be different. Everyone used to tell me dat I was stupid. I
knew deep down that I wasn't, but sometimes I hadda wonder.
Now, people only smile at me when I shout. 'Cept, it ain't a real
smile, only the kind of smile dat shows you dat they're thinking,
"Maybe I should donate".
If anything, that's what I hate. Charity. That an' pity. Can't they
see? I don't need nobody's pity! All I need is a good strong drink an'
a cigarette, dat's all. But do they give me that privilege? No
sir'ee!
I ain't got no priviliges in this place. They treat me like a fool,
they think I'm stupid, but they don't know what's coming for them! If
they did, they'd all be a'cowering unn'er their beds.
Yup, it feels good to be crazy.
My shrink tells me it's okay to feel what I'm feelin'. Aah! Whadd'us he
know? He's got more experience in being bonkers than I do in my
opinion! All of them are off their rockers, insane, nutty as
fruitcakes.
They think I'm old, but they don't know what's coming for them. They
think "Ag, shame. Poor crazy little old woman" but what do they know
anyway?
My kids don't come an' see me anymore. They've grown tired of me now. I
can see it in them little beady eyes what they're thinkin'. They're
sayin' to themselves "There she goes again" but, let me tell you,
they're just settin' themselves up for a fall!
Even my own flesh and blood can't forsee what's coming for them! If
they knew, they'd all be a'thankin' me for warning them about it, and
preparing for war.
I was watchin' telly the other night, and there they were! They were
bright green an' they filled the whole screen right up!
I started shouting "They're here! They're here!" I jumped up and
started bouncing about the room I did. But did they appreciate it? No
sir'ee they did not!
You would'a thought they'd be grateful for me warning, but they just
asked me to calm down and they gave me another damn cuppa. How's any
damn cup of tea gonna save the world from invasion? That's what I'd
like to know.
It feels good to be crazy... 'cept when they give you those darned
awful pills. Taste like chalk on toast they do. If anyone's batty, it's
them people, feeding me tablets like there's a holocaust approachin'.
Maybe they do suspect what's comin'? Maybe, they're thinking "Per'aps
there's something to this crazy little old lady..."
But that be none of my business what they're thinking, of course, but
when it comes to what I'm thinking, it has to be analyzed under a
blinking microscope! Of course, then they just discard it and move on
to the next Crazy.
I 'ave visions I tell you. I can see them coming, I can!
But, no one listens to little old me.
I'll just be sittin' here in my chair a'rockin' if anyone asks for me.
Fat chance of that happenin'!
I've done my bit. I tried to warn them, I tried to warn 'em all! But no
one has the time for a little old crazy woman like me.
I'll just be sittin' here in my chair a'rockin' if anyone asks for
me...
Yes sir'ee, it feels good to be crazy...

Tabatha Parker passed away in early September. The cause was unknown.
Doctors suspected a heart attack, but there was no evidence of any
trauma.
The last thing she was recorded saying was, "They're coming for me
tonight. They're gonna kill us all I tell you! They know I know! They
know I know!" The nurse administered a tranquilizer and Tabatha fell
into a deep sleep.
Patty McCormack in the next room started screaming around midnight,
claiming to have seen a green light glowing under Tabatha's door. She
was hushed and put back to bed.
Next morning, Tabatha was found dead in her bed.
No one really knows what happened that night, and I suppose we never
will. Only Tabatha could tell us now, but her word couldn't be trusted
anyway, she was just a crazy little old lady, what did she know?...